


The Next Day Blues

by jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Luke Evans and Alex Skarsgard [133]
Category: Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	The Next Day Blues

  
**players only. backdated to the very end of November, 2013 when Alex was training in Norway for the upcoming "Walking with the Wounded" trek. takes place after[Alex plays with Luke over Skype.](http://alex-skarsgard.dreamwidth.org/360.html)**

Luke's pretty sure he's coming down with something. He slept badly last night, could barely drag himself out of bed this morning and then today, at work, had been one of the worst days of shooting he's ever experienced. He'd been consistently off his mark and although everyone else seemed to have patience galore, he'd been frustrated and embarrassed and completely out of sorts, wishing he could just go back to the hotel and hide under the covers. Finally home, he's made some soup and pulled some crackers from the cupboard but he doesn't feel like eating. Instead, even though it's still early, he changes into his pajamas and curls up in a throw on the couch, remote in hand and phone nearby as he listlessly flicks through the channels.

The sun has already set, and Alex can tell he's going to be making his nightly Skype call to Luke later than usual. That's why when he gets an idle minute, he quickly rings his husband to let him know.

Luke frowns at the phone, not expecting Alex's call until later, but the moment he sees his husband's name, his heart leaps, tears suddenly stinging his eyes as he answers, "Hello?"

"Hey, love. They're doing some kind of big team dinner tonight," Alex says, smiling when he hears his lover's velvety voice. "So I'm going to Skype you, like, an hour or two later tonight."

Almost as instantly Luke's heart sinks again. He glances at the clock. An hour or two later than usual? He doesn't even know if he can make it till then. Just feels _so_ tired. And so close to bawling his head off. "Okay," he says instead, not trusting himself to say much more. "Have fun."

"Thanks... Hey." Alex frowns; something in Luke's tone just sounds... wrong. "Are you okay? Did you get beaten up on set again, or something?"

Luke shakes his head even though Alex can't see it. "I think I'm coming down with something," he says softly. "I've just felt really wiped out today."

"Shit." Alex waves off one of his teammates, saying, "I'll catch up with you guys later." He ducks down a hallway to snatch a little privacy. "Like, the flu? Does anything hurt? Do you have a fever?" he asks his lover, even as he wonders why the hell he's asking. What the fuck can _he_ do about it?

"No. I just feel really awful," Luke says, sitting up a little and sniffling as he tries not to break down completely. "And I kept messing everything up today. I feel like such an idiot."

Alex slides down the wall to a sitting position. "What happened? Did you wake up feeling like this?"

His head aching, Luke bites at his bottom lip, trying to remember when this started. "I don't know. Yes. I felt horrible this morning but I slept really badly and I was feeling weird last night." Maybe he ate something bad but he hasn't been sick; he just feels like shit.

"Last night... after we talked?"

It feels like Luke's swimming through molasses, trying to recall. He rubs his fingers over his temples. "I guess so. I must have already been coming down with something. I went to bed early but I slept so badly."

Alex drags his free hand through his hair, frustrated. He suspects that he's starting to get the picture... and he really doesn't like what he sees. "What'd you think of what we did last night?" he asks, hoping Luke will be able to keep up with the sudden shift in topic. "With the hairbrush, spanking and fucking yourself."

Luke lies back down, scrunching the pillow up under his head. "It was really hot," he says softly, a slight shiver running through him at the memory.

That matches up with Alex's opinion, certainly. But maybe it's not the whole story. "How did you feel when I hung up?"

Luke frowns. "What do you mean? I was fine. I was tired but..." he shrugs, not wanting to admit to Alex just how much he misses him and how fucking _depressed_ he'd felt last night.

"Goddammit." Alex thumps his head against the wall a few times. "Baby, I don't think you're sick. I think you're not quite out of the scene yet. And that's totally my fucking fault." What the hell was he thinking, getting off the phone so quickly? Or pushing his boy like that from so far away, even to begin with?

"No," Luke shakes his head, his frown deepening. "I don't think so. I mean I was kind of down after our call – because I was missing you – but I slept."

"But not well, you said." Alex could be wrong; it's certainly happened before. But all the pieces seem to be falling into place. "Right? And usually after a good scene you get good sleep."

"I guess so," Luke says quietly, although he still doesn't understand how that can be. Could he really be feeling this awful just because of what they did last night, or the way they left things after what they did? It doesn't seem possible.

Yeah, that tone of voice is simply _not Luke_. Could Alex be any more irresponsible with his boy? "Have you gone through subdrop before?" Probably not, he guesses. _Fuck!_

Luke sits up again, pulling the throw around his shoulders. "I don't know," he says, hating how whiny he sounds. Unable to hold back the tears now. "I felt kind of clingy after heavy scenes before and when we did something new, but this was just over the phone and I've never felt like this." Shit. He rubs at his eyes, suddenly terrified that this'll be like the service thing and Alex won't want to play with him over the phone or Skype either.

"Okay. Okay..." Alex is on his feet again now in his panic, looking wildly around the empty hallway like answers will just materialize before him. "Look, I'll be there tomorrow, all right? Can you focus on that for me?" Two motherfucking hours' drive to Oslo's international airport. Then Heathrow so he can change planes for Belfast... _Fuck_ , he fucked this one up but good.

"You can't do that," Luke blurts out, all pretense at trying to keep it together completely gone now. "You're supposed to be training. I'll be fine. Just – talk to me for a bit. I'll be okay," he promises, almost frantic.

"Luke. Calm down," Alex replies, struck by the realization (for a second, anyway) that his lover's panic might actually exceed his own. But then— "No, wait. Sorry, that was a really stupid thing to say. Forget I said that," he admonishes. "I said I'll be there and I will be. Don't worry about the team, okay? Most of these guys have families that they periodically take time off for. I can do it, too, it'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Guilt washes over Luke in huge waves, even though he wants Alex here so badly. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

It actually takes Alex a moment to find the words to reply; he's so taken aback by the question. "Of course I'm not, _älskling_. You can't think that." He blinks. "You don't think that, do you?"

Sobbing in a breath, Luke shakes his head. "I don't know. I just don't want you to be mad at me. I don't want you to stop playing with me."

"Hey. Listen to me, sweetheart." Alex gentles his tone, finally. "I'm not mad. And I'm not _going_ to be mad. I'm coming to see you because you're the heart of my universe and I need to be with you, okay?"

"Okay." Luke agrees, but the words barely register. All he can think of is how badly he's fucking up. That he's making Alex leave his training to take care of him.

The sound of that half-hearted answer doesn't convince Alex in the least. "And you. I want you to call in sick for tomorrow. Try and get some good sleep, and I'll be there before you know it."

Luke starts to protest but the words sound too much like an order for him to argue. "Yes, sir," he whispers, biting at his lip and tearing up again. Again? Christ. Has he ever stopped? "I love you."

"I love you too, Luke. Always." Alex sighs softly. "But I have to hang up so that I can go make my flight arrangements. You'll be all right until I get there?"

"Yes, sir," Luke murmurs with another inelegant snuffle. "I'm going to watch some TV and then go to bed."

"Good boy. I'll see you tomorrow," Alex replies, leaving no room for doubt in his voice. "I love you. I'll be there." He pauses, then adds, "Now, you hang up first."

"Yes, sir. Love you. I'll see you tomorrow," Luke says softly before finally, reluctantly, hanging up, the phone set back on the coffee table before he curls up into a ball again, trying not to let himself think about how he's fucking everything up for Alex by letting him do this.

Alex breathes a sigh of relief. And then he reflects that any relief is certainly out of place in this situation. "Fuck," he spits out, yet again, and rings his team's preferred travel agency.


End file.
